Without Regrets
by Jest'lyn Tal
Summary: There are things to consider before going into battle. As a squad of Migrant Fleet Marines goes out to confront the geth on a lonely outpost world, several of them have time to think about what they've left unsaid. Kal'Reeger/Tali
1. Chapter 1

**Standard Disclaimers**: I don't own Mass Effect 1, 2 or any of the characters. I do take a little liberty in assigning rank to Migrant Fleet Marines (and a certain marine specifically) and hope someone will set me right if there's documentation I should have found to correct me on that.

* * *

"Do you ever worry about it?" it wasn't spoken loudly but Quarian suits were designed to carry even whispers to waiting ears. To the squad, sitting in neat lines on metal benches, the words were as clear and intimate as those of their own thoughts. A grunt was heard from the Sergeant, a low sound that wasn't quite disapproval but certainly wasn't encouraging. Regardless, someone took the conversational bait.

"Think about what, Evin?"

The shuttle rocked but the veteran marines simply rocked with it. Turbulence was to be expected when slicing through an atmosphere.

Evin had been on his share of shuttles and missions. Still, he looked sharply towards the cockpit, as if something in him denied the commonness of this flight. "About what you've left behind back on the fleet. About whether you've, you know, left it the right way." The words weren't doing Evin's thoughts justice and he knew it. He could see it in the way several faceplates turned to look at him, their skepticism conveyed by their silence. "I mean, I told Shyla I love her but she's so young. What if something goes wrong and I never return? Will she understand?"

"Damn it, Evin," one of the marines grumbled and shook his head.

Uncomfortable thoughts. Familiar thoughts too, for all of them.

Not thoughts, though, that needed to be spoken mere moments away from landing in a hot zone.

Several men looked at the Sergeant; fairly certain he'd call an end to this sort of talk. His reputation said many things about him and a no-nonsense approach was often mentioned among them. Apparently he was either in indulgent mood or not paying attention, for he didn't interrupt. Instead he focused on the shotgun in his hands, making some minute adjustment to the battered weapon.

"We are out here fighting to keep our families safe," it was Thada'Sin vas Ulnay, voice the texture of steel wool, who spoke, "You concentrate on that and your daughter will be proud of you. You start getting all weak..."

"I'm not a coward and I know why we are out here," Evin said hotly. It was extremely rare to find a Migrant Fleet Marine who had doubts about their calling. Without a world, without a place, all the Quarians had was the Fleet and each other. Protecting their home was more than enough motivation to make patriots. "That has nothing to do with thinking about the ones you love and how they might do without you. About whether you've… said enough to them."

The shuttle banked. The ground was visible through the viewports.

The smoke and haze.

The rubble and glint of metal.

"I talk to my wife," came the quiet admission from further down the line. "In my head. Only, when it is safe to do so, of course. I know that she cannot hear me. But, it helps me know what to say when I get back at least. And if I do not make it back at least the words were thought. Maybe, somehow, the universe will tell her if something happens and I can't."

"I write to my sister," another quarian said, somewhat dryly. "That way I don't have to count on the 'Universe' to deliver anything for me. Just one of you fools."

Someone snickered but no one laughed.

"It is better to record a message than write," it was pointed out. "That way they have your face and your voice as well."

The engines whined, high-pitched and imperative as thrusters fired. The shuttle dropped, losing altitude on its approach, counting on deftness to avoid any incoming fire. Evin involuntarily caught his breath as his stomach dropped, a gasp that was not planned but that conveyed fears he never would have wanted to show.

Fear was an insidious thing and all too easily shared. The questions Evin had raised and the sound of his anxiety reached to prod oh-so-gently, oh-so-insistently at the insecurities of them all.

They were landing.

The doors were about to open.

And they were about to face geth who wanted them all dead.

The silence in the shuttle got very loud.

As the last few hundred feet between them and ground disappeared, the Sergeant stood. The light reflected off a dozen faceplates as marines turned to him. Expectant. Quiet. Trusting him both as their leader and as a veteran of countless missions to say something that would banish those shadows of worry and home. He did not look up right away but simply began dropping his ammo into place. Thunk. Thunk.

"Evin'Hodda," he said flatly, lowly, "I'll tell you exactly what you do when you worry like that." A snap and the shotgun was locked and loaded. The Sergeant looked up, holding the attention of the men by his determination and unshakable conviction. "You don't fucking die."

Someone snorted and someone else actually laughed. Tension faded as the words, barked with undertones of impatience, nudged the men back into proper mindset for a battle. Evin blushed but nodded firmly as the shuttle landed with a rocking jolt. The bay doors opened; the marines sprung to their feet.

Sergeant Kal'Reeger gestured to the battle outside, "Now /move/!"

* * *

On the small outpost world of Sogu, time was simultaneously gobbled up and stretched out by the chaos of battle. And geth inexorably advanced against the quarian marines, leaving only the dead in their wake.

Eventually there were more quarians laying motionless, or screaming in pain through their comms, then there were standing and shooting.

Eventually there were more heat sinks scattered among the rock then there were in Kal'Reeger's ammo belt.

He'd ordered a retreat and the remaining men obeyed. He'd lingered, giving them as much covering fire as he could because duty and the ghosts of squad members past demanded that he do so. Kal'Reeger wanted to live. He was less enthusiastic about being the only one to do so and would prevent it if possible.

Except now, he was alone, crouched behind a stone wall, as the geth moved to flank him.

One well-aimed shot took off a geth's arm several yards away before his pistol clacked on an empty chamber. He had one heat sink left in reserve and he reached for it.

As he reloaded, his thoughts briefly lingered on a smile only glimpsed behind a faceplate and a form wrapped in the protection of a dark purple and gray patterned biosuit.

There was no recording left for her, at least not from him. His military issue will, modified only once in all these years, did spare a line for her. Sentiment all too sparse. It wasn't much but it was all he could do.

He shifted his weight, getting his feet braced beneath him in preparation. Geth didn't instinctively draw back from incoming fire, no instinctive flinching for self-preservation. Retreating, running to withdraw after his men with only his own wild shots to cover him, was a plan barely less suicidal than remaining and letting them come for him.

He didn't like the idea of being shot in the back but it was the viable option he had.

He bought himself as much time as he could, firing on the closest scout and taking it out in a brief but bright explosion. He didn't wait to see the sparks fall but bolted. He fired over his shoulder and zigzagged, dirt flung up at his feet by the impact of the shots dogging his footsteps.

_Don't die._

_Then you don't have to worry about what you never said to her._

_Then you can waste more time never saying anything at all. _

He didn't see the explosion that sent him careening through the air. Neither did he hear or feel it except for one instant of deafening noise and horrific pressure. Instead, the world simply flexed and wobbled around him. He slammed into the rocky ground and everything stopped.

Briefly.

Then he was staring. He blinked at the yellowing sky, a painful low-grade buzz of nothingness filling his ears. His arms were too heavy to move, his legs too distant to feel. Breathing was difficult and after a moment of struggle, he chuckled a breath and let his head rest back against the dirt.

_Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, I…_

_Tali…_

…_.ma'am…_

Even now, he couldn't think of anything for the universe to tell her for him. He guessed that he should have just shown her.

Somehow.

_Damn._

He sighed and lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers: I don't own Mass Effect or any of these characters

* * *

The Normandy had always been a beautiful ship. Tali'Zorah vas Neema had been impressed by it, eager to explore, from the moment she first saw it in docking bay. She considered herself very lucky that she'd been allowed to do just that. Shepard had been under no obligation to allow a stranger, a civilian, such access or to extend such trust.

Commander Shepard had trusted her, though, and had earned Tali's trust in turn a hundred times over.

There was a certain practicality interwoven into a quarian's love for her ship. After all, a ship was not just a home but an entire world to the wandering race. They were great metal protectors who, in turn, needed to be constantly protected by way of daily maintenance and vigilant watches. It was a rather lovely partnership in its own fashion.

Compared to the ships in the Fleet, the Normandy had not been very needy. She was so much newer than what Tali was used to that she seemed to require nothing but the occasional guiding hand from her crew. Even when she was attacked by an enemy more advanced than anyone could have expected, she remained strong and held together long enough to save most of the crew.

It was foolish but sometimes Tali thought that she had failed the great ship in those last moments. Perhaps if she'd just been faster, or smarter, she could have done something, gotten more power to the thrusters or bolstered the shields, to save the Normandy.

To save the Commander.

But, then, no, there hadn't been anything that anyone could do. That so many of them survived was a miracle in of itself.

Still, even though common sense told her that guilt was unnecessary, when the young quarian stepped aboard the Normandy SR-2 for the first time she'd caressed the bulkhead surreptitiously. The quick but fervent gesture sealed the promise to both the ship and herself that neither of them would go down without a fight again.

Now, squeezed underneath a console as she reconnected the secondary exchanges, she was grimly satisfied to know that she'd helped keep that promise. The new Normandy had gone through the Omega 4 relay only a few weeks ago and destroyed the Collector ship which had been stealing entire colonies of humans for a horrible purpose. The ship had suffered, as had her crew, but no matter how bloody, bruised and battered they all were, they'd all survived.

Though, Donnelly hardly joked at all now.

And all of Kelly's smiles were forced.

Miranda had even, somewhat ironically, become even colder and more focused now that her ties with the Illusive Man had been shattered.

Tali sighed. No, no one was unaffected. The Normandy had limped back to the Citadel for the repairs that were not possible in space. It was there that, once docked, many of the crew had gone separate ways. Miranda and Jacob had gone off to secure new resources for the money that they needed to operate, and Thane to spend some time with his son aboard the station. Shepard, Garrus and Samara had gone to talk to the Council, while Zaeed had simply bid them all goodbye.

Tali wasn't sure that Samara would stay with them once they departed the Citadel.

In fact, Tali was certain that Zaeed wouldn't be the last to leave the Normandy for good. They'd saved thousands of lives and defeated a threat to the entire universe, but the fact of the matter was that the mission was over now. For the time being at least, there was no overt goal except to get stronger and be ready. To go from such a high calling to marking time was a hard thing. Surviving such a monumental and dire experience could make a person feel very … empty… afterwards. The lack of purpose could be devastating.

Tali wasn't immune to such feelings but she was more familiar with them than some of the others. While Saren's death and the defeat of Sovereign had been a great thing, she'd still felt at somewhat loose ends afterwards. She'd only been on the verge of getting used to a life lived a bit less urgently when Shepard had died.

By comparison, this situation now was much easier to handle.

Besides, she already knew she would be staying. Aboard the Normandy she could best serve her fleet, the universe, and her friends. It was where she belonged and where she intended to always return.

Tali Zorah vas Normandy.

"The console was very hungry today, I see," the interjection was smooth as Asari silk and full of teasing smiles. Tali gave a connecter a last tug and began wiggling her way out of the cramped space.

"Yes, very hungry indeed," she returned, "though it will take more than a malfunctioning console to do me in."

Kasumi Goto was leaning against the bulkhead across the way, arms crossed over her chest and posture casual. Beneath the shadow of her hood, her dark marked lips were curved and her eyes danced. The thief seemed to delight in popping up here and there on the ship, never spending too much time with anyone, but touching them all in methodical turns as if to reassure herself of one thing or another. Tali could never tell whether her habit had to do keeping tabs on the people, the relationships, or the ship itself.

"I don't doubt it for a second," Kasumi assured, "Though, you do realize you've worked completely through your own dinner, right?"

Tali winced, "Ah, yes. I just wanted to get this one last thing finished. The screen had been surging and it was becoming impossible to read without a headache."

"Ouch," Kasumi straightened up, "Well, if it's fixed now, Gardener set aside something for you." There was a lilt there as the thief interjected a question into the words.

Or, perhaps, Kasumi's delicate checking was simply the gesture of a woman looking for company?

Tali nodded, "Alright. The rest can wait." She fell into line beside the other woman as they headed for the elevator, still wondering about t he rest of the crew.

Grunt would probably stay, Tali mused, given his desire to fight. Or, maybe not if Shepard couldn't give him enemies right away. And Jack? With her temper, it was only a matter of time before there would be some sort of conflict. When it happened, it'd be easier than ever for the tattooed convict to just walk. "Kasumi?"

"Yes?" Dark eyes flicked to her.

"I was wondering," Tali began, "now that we are docked at the citadel, do you intend to stay with the crew?"

"Goodness, that is the question of the hour, isn't it?" Kasumi pressed the button on the panel and the elevator began to hum as it carried them up. "I imagine that I'll leave eventually, of course. I do have a career to tend to, after all. But I don't see much of a rush."

"A career," Tali said doubtfully.

Kasumi flashed her smile, "We all have our places, Tali. Besides, you shouldn't knock it. I'd bet, if given half a chance, you'd love the thrill of a good heist."

"Be that as it may," Tali chuckled, not without a hint of wryness. "I think I'll leave the stealing to you."

The elevator slowed and opened. Tali's suit filters purified the air she breathed before ever delivering it to her lungs so she couldn't smell the scorch marks that she could plainly see on the walls, even here. The complaints from other crew members had made it clear, however, that the scent was still in nearly everything on the ship.

"Tali Zorah vas Normandy," EDI's voice came from a nearby console. The ship's artificial intelligence was very polite, perhaps because it was aware of Tali's distrust of all things AI.

Tali stiffened slightly but replied, "Yes, EDI?"

"You have an incoming message from the Migrant Fleet. I have uploaded it to your omni-tool." It was said matter-of-factly enough but Tali still felt her stomach twist a little. Lately, news from the Fleet had not meant good things for her. Kasumi had paused, giving Tali a neutral but curious look.

"Thank you EDI," Tali said mechanically, "Kasumi, I should hear what they have to say. Thank you for coming to get me. I will talk to you later."

"Of course," the woman said easily and left Tali standing in the elevator. The quarian debated disembarking; perhaps reading the message while grabbing what Gardener had saved for her. Instead she simply pressed the button to return to the engineering deck. Privacy seemed a prudent measure.

As a result, Tali didn't bring up the message until she was in an out-of-the-way alcove and sitting down.

The message took two minutes to read.

The jumble of emotions it caused, fear, denial, panic, took five minutes to control.

Her decision about what she needed to do once she could think properly, took almost no time at all.

Tali surged to her feet and strode down the hall, heading to her rack and her things. She'd get EDI to patch a message through to Shepard or leave one with someone on the crew.

The Normandy was her home. Her ship. She would always, always return back to it.

But right now, she needed to hire a ship that could take her to Odua in the Serpent Nebula.

_I don't know if you are still alive, Reeger. But I won't let you be abandoned all alone on a world like that. Hold on. I'm coming. _

_

* * *

_

Review Note:

Thanks Cynderfire! ;)


End file.
